Sequins and Spurs. Cheryl St.John

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      “Nobody’s perfect, Ruby. And everyone is different.”

      She could wallow in self-recrimination or she could do something to make up for lost time. “Is it too late to plant a garden?”

      “Probably not. Ours just went in a week or so ago.”

      Everything she’d once thought tedious and unbearable now seemed like a lifeline to the stable life she had thrown away. “I’m going to get the house clean. And then I’ll plant a garden. I need to learn how to cook and put up things for winter.”

      She didn’t miss the sympathetic look Georgia cast her way, but the woman replied, “I’ll help any way I can.”

      “It appears you do enough already, what with the children in your care.”

      “I have help at the house. If you need me, all you have to do is ask. Don’t be shy.”

      “Shy isn’t one of my traits,” Ruby said with a smile.

      Half an hour later, she trailed behind as Nash and his mother led the children to the buggy. When they reached the conveyance, Claire hugged him around the knees. Gently, he loosened her hold and hunkered down to look into her eyes.

      Georgia deliberately stood a distance away to give them privacy, as did Ruby, but their words were still audible.

      “I miss you so much, Papa.”

      “I miss you, too, Claire.”

      “I love Grandma and Grandpa.”

      “I know you do. But it’s still hard to be away from home for so long?”

      Claire nodded.

      Nash wiped a tear from her cheek with his thumb. “It’s hard for me, too. Thank you for being brave and helping with Joel.”

      Claire nodded, and they hugged. Nash stood, picked up his little boy and kissed his forehead. “Thank you for being a good boy for your grandmother, Joel.”

      Joel hugged his neck, and Nash peeled him away to lift both children up to the buggy and then assist his mother. He bent forward for Georgia to kiss his cheek, and she waved a friendly goodbye to Ruby.

      Georgia led the buggy away. Nash straightened his shoulders in a deliberate motion, as though fortifying himself and keeping a lock on his emotions.

      Ruby stood a few feet away from him on the grass in front of the house. “They’re beautiful.”

      He turned slowly, his dark gaze ruthlessly taking in her features, her rumpled shirtwaist, her hair. He had a couple days’ worth of growth on his chin and upper lip, but his black hair barely touched the collar of his laced shirt. His eyes were so brown they were nearly black, his brows two angry slashes above. “I have work to do.”

      “I have questions I’d like to ask.”

      “Can they wait?”

      His dismissal was even more abrupt than previously. The visit with Claire and Joel had clearly set him on edge. Ruby nodded and glanced toward the stables. “Who cooks for the hands?”

      “We cook outdoors. In the bunkhouse if the weather’s poor.”

      “I wouldn’t mind cooking for all of you. Might make things easier if you didn’t have to do it yourselves.”

      His expression was unreadable. “You can get our supper then. Most days there are three of us.”

      She might have said something else, but he’d already turned away and headed for the stables. After taking the glasses inside, she finished hanging her clothes on the line. The sheets were dry by then, so she made up the beds. She tried to put herself in Nash’s place and imagine how difficult the past few years had been. When she looked at herself the way he’d seen her, she couldn’t blame him for holding her absence against her.

      Resigned to leaving her old room to Claire, Ruby opened the windows in her mother’s room, mopped the plank wood floors and shook the rag rugs. An upholstered chair with long fringe covering the legs sat between the two corner windows. Beside it a basket held skeins of yarn and knitting needles. Underneath them she found squares of fabric.

      Ruby picked up the unfinished piece on top and looked at the white rectangle looped on the needles. She didn’t remember her mother knitting, but back then Laura had been busy with feeding and clothing two children and caring for a house. Perhaps this had filled her time after she’d become sick.

      Next, Ruby cleaned and polished the furniture, which consisted of an old armoire with calico curtains on the doors and two small drawers at the bottom, a wood chest at the foot of the bed, a dressing table and chair, and the bureau.

      Before placing the ivory comb back on top, she ran her thumbnail across the teeth once more. She could never get the tiny teeth through her curly tresses, but she liked looking at the comb her mother had used for many years.

      Ruby got a fresh pail of water and tackled the coal stove in the other corner. Her mother had always set a vase of wildflowers atop it in the summer. Maybe Ruby would look for some spring flowers later.

      In the bottom of the armoire she found the quilt that had always been on Laura’s bed, shook it out the window and spread it over the mattress. Grandma McWhirter had made it for Mama as a wedding gift. Daddy hadn’t stuck around any longer than it took to sire two daughters, but the quilt had been here for as long as Ruby could remember.

      A resounding slam echoed up the stairway.

      “Ruby!”

      She straightened and hurried out into the hallway.

      Nash stood at the bottom of the stairs, glaring up. “What in blazes are you thinking, woman?”

      “About what?”

      “About flapping your drawers for all the world to see!”

      She came down two steps. “What are you talking about?”

      “I’m talking about the clothesline. A rancher from Hope Valley came out to look over one of my mares, and your nether wear is hanging in plain sight. It’s indecent.”

      “What am I supposed to do with my underwear to get it dry?”

      Obviously exasperated, he took a breath and expelled it. “Be discreet, of course. Tuck it in between the sheets and towels. That’s what Pearl did.”

      Ruby set down the pail she held and flounced down the stairs. “Well, forgive me for doing my laundry. I had no idea my drawers would get you all in a dither.”

      His complexion reddened and it wasn’t from embarrassment. “I’m not in a dither. I’m a businessman trying to conduct a sale with a respectable gentleman who doesn’t care to see your drawers.”

      “Then do your business and leave me to mine.” She moved past him and hurried along the hall toward the back door. The front door slammed again.

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